


I Wanna Go Back To When I Laughed At Things I Thought Were Funny

by OnceAndFloral



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: F/F, I can't believe I have to say this but, I'll add tags as I update, I'll try to update everything weekend!, Implied/Referenced Sex, Jeremy doesn't have emotions so that's, M/M, Michael is Very Concerned, Mild spoilers for the Trolls movie in chapter three, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, something, this au is called the soulless au so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceAndFloral/pseuds/OnceAndFloral
Summary: “Are you really okay?”Jeremy nodded slowly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”“I just spilled boiling hot coffee on you, you’re allowed to have feelings about that.” He sat down across from Jeremy, still staring at him.“I don’t have those.”“Have what? Feelings?”“Mhm.”----------------------------Or; Michael has a problem with helping strangers(Updates Fridays, hopefully!)





	1. i was so bored before i met you

Jeremy didn't look back as he tugged on his shirt and left the foreign apartment. He had work to get to anyways, and he wasn't quite keen on losing this job too. Besides, this person probably understood that last night was a one time thing. It wasn't his fault he didn't feel anything.

Well, technically it was.

He didn't bother to fix himself up. Jeremy pulled on his jacket and stepped out of the door, doing a quick check to make sure he had all his belongings. Alright, now just a quick stop at home before heading off to work. Good thing Jeremy woke up early.

Same old routine, same old day. It took a calculated, or at least repeatedly recorded, hour to gather up his stuff and arrive to the coffee shop where he worked.

“Looks like someone got busy last night.” Jake sang from the counter. Brooke gasped, almost offended.

“Jeremy, your hair is a mess!”

“I mean. I just didn't care enough to fix it.” Jeremy shrugged.

Brooke didn't seemed to take this for an answer. She sat him down in one of the chairs, fixing his hair with her fingers. “Jesus, Jeremy, you can't keep showing up to work as an actual mess.”

“Speaking of which,” Jake smirked. “You got a little something on your neck there.”

Brooke sighed. “If we have you at the counter the customers are going to be staring at you all day.”

“Fine, I don't care.” Jeremy swatted her hands away. “It doesn't matter, Brooke.”

She looked sad. At least, Jeremy thought that was sad. “Jer, I worked really hard to get you this job after you got fired so much, and I don't know how much I can help you get a new one if you get fired from this-”

“Brooke, it’s okay. If I get fired it’s not your fault.” He let her fuss around a bit more with his apron before backing away. 

“Yea, but Jeremy, you can’t just keep hopping from job to job or you eventually won’t be able to find one.”

Jake nudged her gently. “It’s going to be fine, dude.”

Brooke looked at him as if she were offended. “Did you just call me dude?”

“Yes I did.”

They continued bickering, almost leading to Brooke splashing her drink in Jake’s face. Jeremy watched them idly between looking through pictures on his phone. It was almost amusing.

Almost.

“Okay, okay, we have to open now.” Brooke swatted Jake away. 

“If you say so,” Jake sighed. “But hey, on the bright side, maybe we’ll get Jeremy a girlfriend or a boyfriend today.”

“Jake, you know that Jeremy doesn’t-!” 

Brooke didn’t continue when she noticed Jeremy staring at her. She made a few awkward movements, mouth hanging open as she tried to come up with an appropriate ending to her sentence as if he didn’t already know what she was going to say. He shrugged, moving behind the counter with them. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Oh,” Brooke said quietly. “If you say so.”

Jeremy wasn’t stupid, he was just… detached. If that was the right word to call it at all. He didn’t spend much time thinking about it, that was just a waste of time. He couldn’t change the past, and he couldn’t change himself. Not anymore.

It was a slow day, but Jeremy still only narrowly avoided insulting customers by Brooke slapping her hand over his mouth or kicking his ankles. This was fine.

“Okay, Jesus, stop it.” Jeremy hissed. “I’m going to have a bruise on my face by the end of the day.”

Brooke bit down on her lip. “Here, um… go clean up some of the tables. I’ll take care of the counter.”

“I can handle the-”

“Jeremy, just-! If you want me to stop kicking you, go clean up.”

He didn’t argue with her any further. Jeremy silently grabbed a rag and looped around the counter to the array of tables. There were still a few people sitting down. A girl a couple years younger than Jeremy, an elderly man… The bell above the door rang as Jeremy started to wipe down one of the tables, signalling another customer.

That wasn’t Jeremy’s problem anymore. He ignored the drone of the new customer ordering, electing instead to scrub at the surface of the table as hard as he could. Jeremy picked up a plastic knife that the previous shop patron had left on the table. That was something he’d have to throw away. He spun around on his feels, looking for the next table to clean.

Someone yelped as the ran straight into Jeremy, spilling scalding coffee all over his front. Jeremy sucked in a surprised and pained breath, staggering back into the table.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” A man about Jeremy’s age gasped. “Holy shit, are you hurt? I don’t know how hot that was, I’m so sorry!”

Jeremy closed his eyes to ward away the pain shooting up his arms and neck. Fuck, that hurt like a bitch. 

“Are you okay?!” Right, he still had that to deal with.

He opened his eyes. “It’s fine.”

“It’s… fine?” The stranger frowned. “You’re not angry?”

“Nope. Not really feeling anything right now besides pain.”

He gasped again, sitting Jeremy down at the closest table. “Should I like, get some cold rags from the bathroom?”

“I’ll be okay.” 

Jeremy took the chance to study this stranger. He wore glasses that were slipping down his face from his panic, one hand raking back his hair and the other picking at his red hoodie. “You don’t… really seem to be reacting to this at all.”

“That’s normal for me.”

“Your face is kind of…” He trailed off.

“Kind of what?”

“Blank? It’s a little scary.” He paused for a few moments. “Are you really okay?”

Jeremy nodded slowly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I just spilled boiling hot coffee on you, you’re allowed to have feelings about that.” He sat down across from Jeremy, still staring at him.

“I don’t have those.”

“Have what? Feelings?”

“Mhm.”

Hoodie Boy laughed awkwardly. “That can’t be true, you…” He trailed off as his eyes landed on Jeremy’s face once more. “Oh.”

“Yup,” Jeremy hummed. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Are you okay?”

“I already told you, I don’t care that-”

“I mean with the… not feeling thing. Do you need help or something?”

Jeremy went silent for a few moments. This was just like Brooke. Another person who saw him as something that needed pity. He wasn’t dumb. “Of course not.”

“Are you sure? Seriously, did something happen to you?”

_Hands carded through Jeremy's hair as his limbs jerked and spasmed in their owner’s lap, a voice cooing sweet nothings that entirely failed to comfort Jeremy in the slightest._

_It felt like the inside of his brain was being fried with electricity. Hell, it felt like his entire body was being shocked, and that all of the energy eventually began to gather in his head, burning away at everything Jeremy was._

_Eventually it stopped, and the only feeling Jeremy could describe was_ tired _. A thumb from one of the hands that had been running through his hair moved to stroke his cheek as he closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer._

 _“That wasn't so bad now, was it?”_

Jeremy blinked away the memory. “Yes, but it's hardly relevant.”

“Hardly relevant that you don’t-” He was cut off as Jeremy slammed the plastic knife on the table dangerously close to his hand. It splintered and broke under the force.

“Name.”

“...Michael.”

“Well Michael, I’m sorry to break it to you, but this isn’t going to go anywhere. I’m not an emotional person. I’d apologize for your pity being misplaced and wasted, but honestly, I don’t give a shit.”

Michael was pale, eyes darting between Jeremy’s face and the broken knife. “I…”

Jeremy stood up robotically. “I should get back to work. Sorry about your coffee. Try ordering another one and not spilling it on an employee.” He stalked away, tossing the plastic shards into the trash on his way across the shop. He could feel Michael staring at the back of his head.

Brooke gave him that same sorry look as he drew closer. “I saw that but I didn’t hear it, did you-”

“Yea.” Jeremy put down the rag. “I didn’t clean very many tables.”

“Oh, Jeremy…”

He closed his eyes. He could still feel the energy crackling along his spine, the hands ghosting through his hair and along his skin. How long had it been since he had thought about that?

“Are you feeling okay?” Brooke asked gently. Jeremy opened his eyes again.

“I don’t care.”

He wasn’t lying.


	2. but then i met you and everything changed

The closest thing to affection Jeremy held for anything was his being partial to the rain. It was less of a sentimental thing for him and more of that the cold water soothed various ghostly itches and crawling on his skin. He had developed a penchant for sitting out in the downpour for so long he was on the verge of hypothermia. It wasn't the healthiest habit, but he had it nonetheless. 

Jeremy tugged his thin cotton jacket tighter around his frame, even though it was soaked through with rain. His arm that wasn't clutching at his jacket carried a bag of groceries, half of which were probably useless from how long he'd been walking aimlessly around town.

Violent shivers ran up and down his limbs, nearly causing him to drop the grocery bag. His dulled, frozen into barely functioning brain registered he should probably get home. That was probably the best idea at this point.

Jesus, he could barely see from the water dripping into his eyes. Jeremy scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, accomplishing a whole lot of nothing from the fabric being just as wet, if not more, as his face. Seems like he'd have to make do with limited vision.

Jeremy stumbled through the streets, hopefully going in the right direction. It seemed right. He could at least identify the blurred outlines of various landmarks leading to his home. Jeremy cursed softly as he tripped off the pavement into the crosswalk. Did the curbs really have to be so high? He shrugged his jacket further up his shoulders and began his trek across the street.

Something yanked _hard_ against the hood of his jacket, pulling him back onto the sidewalk. He blinked in surprise as the grocery bag slipped off his arm and back into the street, only to be crushed under a blurry, speeding mass.

“It's raining, you asshole! Drive safer!” Jeremy knew that voice. He blinked away the droplets clinging to his eyelashes, catching sight of a familiar red hoodie.

“Are you okay?” Michael asked. A look of concern flashed across his eyes as he saw Jeremy's face. “Holy fuck, your lips are blue, how long have you been out here?”

“A couple hours?” Jeremy frowned. He'd never been the best at judging time.

“Jesus, I-” Michael cut himself off. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You almost got hit by a car! You probably would have died!”

“Oh.” It was only now that that thought had crossed thought had crossed Jeremy's mind. “I'm okay with it.”

“That wasn't the answer I was…!” He made an exasperated noise. “Look, I'm going to walk you to your home.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't want to worry about you almost getting hit by a car again! Where do you live?”

“...Cedar Street.”

Jeremy lapsed into silence as Michael grabbed the hem of his sleeve, tugging him through the rain. He had no idea how Michael somehow could see better than him, given that his glasses were probably hell to deal with. Nonetheless, he easily led Jeremy through the streets, walking with the sureness of someone who had lived there their whole life. A luxury Jeremy himself didn't have.

“Which one is yours?” Michael asked. Well, shit. Jeremy hadn't even realized they'd arrived. He pointed at the blob that was shaped and colored the most like his home. Michael wasted no time dragging him over and up the steps.

As soon as Jeremy's shaking hands had managed to unlock the door, Michael was pushing him in and stripping off his rain soaked jacket. 

“Go get changed,” Michael said, kicking the door behind him.

“What?”

“Listen, you're going to get sick if you stay in those clothes, and unless you want me to change your clothes myself, you're gonna have to do it yourself.”

Jeremy frowned. “You're very dedicated for someone whose only met me once.”

“Well, sorry I'm showing concern for someone who almost died and showed no emotions for that whatsoever!”

Jeremy shrugged and made his way to his room. He traded his sopping wet shirt and jeans for a pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It felt almost strange to be in dry clothes after being in the waterlogged ones for so long.

When he arrived back to the entry way, Michael was staring at the blank walls as if they were the window to Jeremy's very soul.

“What is it?” Jeremy asked. Michael jumped, hand flying to his chest.

“Jesus, I didn't hear you come in,” He breathed. “You don't have anything.” Jeremy stared at him. “Like, no pictures, no decorations.”

“So…?”

“It's just. Weird to me. I've never seen someone decorate their place like a hospital.” Michael frowned. “I guess even a hospital has paintings though.”

“I don't exactly have any visitors to impress,” Jeremy said.

Michael shook his head. “Do you have any food I can heat up for you?”

“I don't think that's necessary.”

“I'm not going to let you get sick.”

The two stared at each other unblinkingly. Michael seemed to quickly recognize he was losing this staring contest. “You either tell me or I tear your kitchen apart looking for something.”

Jeremy let out a hissing sigh. “There's tea in the cabinet.”

Michael nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. Jeremy heard the clattering of him grabbing the kettle off its place on the stove and shifting around in the cabinet.

He dropped down onto the couch, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. His hair was still damp, and he couldn't feel his fingertips. The numbness was almost blissful compared to the phantom hands that had been skittering along his skin for the past week. It had been forever since it had been this bad.

Jeremy gasped as someone frantically shook him, eyes snapping open. “What?!”

Michael's shoulders relaxed. “Oh my god, I thought you were dead.”

“After a few minutes?”

“It was ten minutes, thank you very much, and you were just so pale, and your lips were blue so you looked like a…” Michael's words died in his throat.

“Corpse?”

“Yes, like that.” He shoved a warm mug into Jeremy's hands, face twisted into an odd grimace. Jeremy had to scramble to make sure the mug didn't slip through his fingers.

He wrinkled his nose at the uncomfortable pinpricks in his fingers from the heat radiating from the tea restarting his circulation. Jeremy was halfway tempted to try and put the cup down, but Michael would probably just force him to pick it up again. 

“Are you hurt?” Michael asked gently, as if Jeremy would shatter if he spoke too loud.

“I'm fine,” Jeremy muttered. He held the mug closer, but didn't drink from it. Michael frowned in concern. However, he didn’t push it any further.

“Hey, I just realized you know my name but I don’t know yours.” Michael grinned. “Care to fix that?”

Jeremy tightened his grip on his mug. “It’s… It’s Jeremy.”

“Nice name.”

Voices echoed in his ears, layering on top of each other into some lilting song. Jeremy blinked rapidly. “If you say so.”

“Fuck, are you doing okay? You’re not looking too hot.” Michael pressed his hand to Jeremy’s forehead. He frowned, swatting it away. Was Jeremy still shivering? He thought that he’d stopped a while ago. 

“I should…” What? Jeremy should what? His train of thought had derailed.

“Shit, Jeremy, I need you to listen to me.” Every time his name was said it echoed in his head, each repetition morphing closer and closer to _their_ voice. He nodded slowly. “Do you have a heat pack?”

“Next to the microwave,” Jeremy said softly.

“Okay. Okay, um, I’m going to need you to drink this.” Michael pushed the mug of tea closer to his lips. Jeremy complied, however sluggish his movements may have felt. Huh. A little too sweet, but not too bad otherwise.

By the time he had drained the cup, Michael was back with the heat pack. He shoved it into Jeremy’s lap. “How’re you feeling?”

“Cold. Tired.”

“Well, I’m going to need you to stay awake. Can you do that?”

Jeremy nodded again. He was still confused though. “Why’re you doing this?”

Michael’s mouth opened and closed a couple times. “I don’t want you to die, dude.”

“Oh.”

“Do you mind if I stay around for a bit longer?”

Jeremy shrugged. His name was still ringing in his head. “I don’t really care.”

Michael looked at him sadly. “I know you don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first thing's first, i'm gonna try and make sure I get this updated every Friday! I might fail sometimes, because I get writers block, or sometimes I write stuff for shit that's going to happen like ten chapters later even though I haven't even finished the chapter that's about to be posted. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> catch me on tumblr as squip-grandma !


	3. you were young you thought you didn't have to care about anything but you're older now and wish that you could

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I can't believe I have to say this, but there's mild spoilers for the Trolls movie in this chapter. Also sorry for the long title.

Watching Jeremy's eyes go in and out of focus as his whole body trembled violently had been one of the more terrifying things Michael had seen in his life.

It had taken him a while to warm him up, taking multiple cups of tea and reheating the heat pack. Eventually, Jeremy's lips lost their blueish color and the shivering died away. He didn’t stare through things as though they weren't really there anymore.

Jeremy now looked exhausted, eyes half-lidded. Of course, ever since Michael had met him he’d had dark circles under his eyes, so this probably wasn’t a new feeling for him. Not that he seemed to have many of those.

He was currently curled into a corner of the couch, eyelids fluttering. Honestly, Jeremy was very attractive. He had a kind of casual pretty boy thing going on, and Michael definitely wasn't blind. He wondered how many dates and offers Jeremy had turned away. Or scared away.

“How're you feeling now?” Michael asked.

“I don't believe I'm going to die anymore,” Jeremy said nonchalantly.

“Oh, that's… Good.” He sighed. “Most people I know would be afraid of death.”

“I find that rather pointless. It's going to happen some day whether I like it or not, and if you believe some sources it's predetermined, so why waste my time on it?” Jeremy shrugged against his hoodie, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging himself.

Michael dragged a hand down his face. “Jesus…” He knelt down in front of Jeremy. “Hands.”

Jeremy slowly held out his hands, grimacing a bit. Michael took them and turned them over a few times. Cold, but not the ice they had been earlier. It wasn't worrying or anything. He sighed, leaning back again and picking up the extra cup of tea he’d made from the coffee table. Jeremy’s arms wrapped around himself.

“Is there someone I should call?” Michael asked. “Friend? Parent?” He hesitated a bit. It seemed highly unlikely, basically impossible, but it was worth a shot. “Significant other?”

“Nope.” Jeremy hummed. “Don’t really have much of a connection to anyone. Brooke did force me to put her number in my phone, but she’s probably busy right now.”

“That’s what I thought,” Michael groaned, lifting up the mug to take a drink.

“I did sleep with Jake though, and I have his number too. Then again he might not appreciate it,” Jeremy said casually.

Michael choked on his drink. “The other guy at the coffee shop?”

“That’s the one.”

“You don’t really strike me as someone would would be a fan of physical contact.”

“Sex is… different.” Jeremy stared at the floor pensively. Michael waited for him to continue, but it seemed that was all he had to say on the matter.

“So… were you and Jake dating?”

“No. It was more of an acquaintances with benefits kind of deal. He wasn’t the first or the last.”

“And you’re… okay with that?” Michael asked slowly. He flinched. “Okay, I heard it as soon as it came out of my mouth.”

Jeremy shook his head. “It’s fine. I prefer it like that. No one wasting time with pity when all I’m trying to get is a quick fuck.” He laughed humorlessly. “Just two people looking for something with no strings attached.”

Michael stared at Jeremy sadly. Despite his cold expression and clinical tone, he looked vulnerable and small all wrapped up in his too-big clothes. The still fading chain of marks on his neck almost looked like bruises in the dull evening light.

“And you’ve always been like this?” Michael asked quietly.

“No.” Jeremy paused. “I haven’t.”

“Don’t you want to feel again?”

Jeremy’s grip on the sleeves of his hoodie tightened a fraction of an inch. If Michael hadn’t been watching him so closely, he would have missed it entirely. It was possible Jeremy didn’t even realize his movements. “Even if I did, I don’t think you understand how I literally can’t do that.”

“Then I’ll help you,” Michael offered. Jeremy’s head snapped up, eyes suspicious. 

“Why?”

“Because I’m a nice person,” He grinned. Jeremy did not seem to be amused by this.

“I feel as though there’s something you’re not telling me.”

It was Michael’s turn to almost subconsciously tense his fingers. “Do we have an agreement?”

Jeremy shrugged. “Sure.”

* * *

Michael ended up leaving a couple hours later once the rain died away. He waved to Jeremy from the door, smiling weakly. Jeremy simply nodded his way. Something clammy and cold rose up in Michael’s chest.

He closed the door behind him, pressing his back against the door and letting out all of the air trapped in his lungs. The sound of the chorus from “Donkey Pot Pie” rang through the air from Michael’s pocket. He pulled his phone out, answering it without hesitation.

“What’s up, dollface?”

Jenna sighed over the line. “Dammit, Michael, you’re gay.”

He chuckled. “Doesn’t mean I can’t use pet names. Seriously though, why are you calling?”

“I’m wondering where you are. You were supposed to be here for Mary Poppins fuckin’ hours ago.”

“Yea, about that…” Michael rubbed the back of his neck, pushing off the door and beginning his walk down the sidewalk. “I kinda saved, uh… this guy I know from getting hit by a car and-”

“ _What?!_ ” Jenna shrieked. “Michael, did you get his number? Do you have a date?”

“Jenna, I pulled him off the street, not taken him out to a romantic dinner.”

“This dude owes you his life, the least he could do is go out on a date,” Jenna scoffed. “Wait, is he cute? Oh shit, did he turn out to be a jerk?”

Michael bit his lip. “No, he’s definitely cute and he’s not a jerk per se but…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think I got myself into another mess again.”

“Oh, Michael…” He could feel Jenna’s pity-eyes from the other side of the phone. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“He just needs help, Jen, and-” He made a frustrated noise. “I know this is bad, but he’s in a _really_ bad place and I couldn’t just leave him.”

There was a loud bang on the other line, presumably from Jenna hitting her head against the nearest thing in her apartment. “Okay, fine. Why’d it take you so long to rescue his ass anyways?”

“Well he’d been wandering around in the rain for a couple hours, and I took him home and he had what seemed like mild hypothermia? I don’t know, it might not have been. Anyways, I stuck around until he wasn’t incoherent and shivering, and now I’m heading over.”

“Michael just… Don’t worry about it. It seems like you’ve had a long day. We can watch Mary Poppins some other day.”

He smirked. “And Shrek the Musical?”

“Oh my- Only if we watch Dog With A Blog.”

“I think you only put that on the watchlist because you know I hate it.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Michael chuckled. “I’ll talk to you later, Jen.” He hung up the phone, stashing it back into his hoodie. He looked up at the sky, still grey with clouds from the previous storm. His mind was racing a million words a minute. Jeremy said there was a reason he was like… that, but Michael couldn’t fathom what that could possibly be.

He flipped up his hood. He was in the mood for getting high. After what Michael had been through today, he probably deserved it.

* * *

Beginning a friendship with Jeremy was… testing, to say the least. Any text Michael managed to get out of him was a mildly infuriating one word answers. That was fine, Michael could work around that. It's not like texting was meant to be a medium for extensive communication. Although Jeremy tended to be a little bit cryptic sometimes during verbal conversation too…

Jeremy didn't exactly have any hobbies either. Michael had a bit of difficulty finding activities to do with him. He did bring in a jigsaw puzzle once just out of experimentation, but Jeremy solved that in fifteen minutes.

“Jesus, I didn't really expect emotions to be attached to puzzle skills,” Michael said, looking over the patchwork picture of a jungle scene.

“They're not,” Jeremy replied. “I've just always been into puzzles. Even before this.” He frowned. “I think. I don't remember much before this.”

Another thing. The origins of Jeremy's condition was shrouded in mystery. Michael rarely got anything more than a vague answer, if Jeremy didn't brush it off in the first place. Michael sighed, still putting up his best smile.

“What do you even do if you don't have hobbies?”

Jeremy shrugged. “Work. Improve skills so that when I eventually get fired the next job will overlook my record because I'm good at doing what they want.”

“Skills like…?”

“Cooking, baking. Minor bits of computer science. Music. There's more, but that's what comes to mind.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Care to show me these cooking skills?”

Jeremy shrugged, turning towards his kitchen. “Sure.” 

One of the harder things for Michael's plan was that there was no lesson plan for teaching someone emotions. Michael was entirely in untested water. The best thing he could do for now was just hang around Jeremy and get some things to do that might _do_ something. And if Jeremy like cooking, well, Michael would just have to go out on a limb.

“What do you want?” Jeremy asked.

“Chef’s choice. I don't even know what you've got in the kitchen.”

He nodded, opening the fridge and shuffling around inside. “Don't you have somewhere to be?”

“Not particularly,” Michael hummed. “Jenna and I are having a movie night in a day or two.”

“Jenna?”

“Oh, right. She's my friend. She's really social, sometimes I forget that not everyone knows her.”

“I see.” Glass clinked softly about the counter as Jeremy moved with an eerie silence around the kitchen. That was really fucking weird. Not unexplainable such as the complete and total loss of emotions, but really fucking weird nonetheless.

Watching Jeremy cook was almost mesmerizing. Every movement seemed to be a step to a dance that had been planned out and practiced countless times. No moments or space on the counter was wasted. Michael had to wonder how many times he'd done this. Probably hours. Honestly, Michael was impressed. He'd never had the attention span for baking.

“Alright.” Jeremy dusted off his hands, effectively snapping Michael out of his trance. “That's gonna be in the oven for about forty five minutes.”

“Jesus, that's a long time.”

Jeremy frowned. “I mean, I guess. Not really but…” He hummed, sitting down across from Michael at the table. He drummed his fingers against the finished puzzle. “I take it you don't cook very often?”

“Not really. I kind of live on take out and prepackaged shit. And coffee.”

“I'm aware,” Jeremy said as he absentmindedly picked puzzle pieces from the edge. “You've been stopping by the shop every day.”

Michael laughed awkwardly. “Yea, my old haunt closed down. Now you've got to put up with me.”

“I suppose so.”

They sat there for a while in awkward silence. Maybe less so for Jeremy, but Michael could certainly feel little bugs wriggling under his skin the longer the air stagnated.

He sucked in air between his teeth. “This is getting kinda awkward.”

“This isn't a movie where our dialogue is carefully planned out down to the very moment, Michael. There's bound to be flaws.”

“Yea, I get that, I just-” Wait. Something clicked in Michael's head. 

Jeremy frowned. “Are you going to continue that sentence or…”

“That’s it!” Michael shot up from his seat. Jeremy blinked slowly, tilting his head to the side.

“That’s… what?”

“Movies, dude!” Michael grinned. “That’s all kinds of emotional shit! I’m sure if we look hard enough we’re going to find something to get a reaction out of you!”

Jeremy frowned. “This seems poorly thought out.”

“All plans are poorly thought out, Jeremy, they just happen to work.”

“That is _definitely_ not how anything works, ever.”

Michael smirked, leaning closer to Jeremy. “I’m about to prove that is how it works.”

That earned him an eye roll and Jeremy leaning backwards to increase the distance between them once more. “If you’re that confidence in yourself, I’m sure you’d be happy to test your theory.”

“Yes I fucking would Jeremiah. Do you have Netflix?”

“No.”

“Of course you don’t. We’ll use my account.” Michael grabbed his backpack from its spot next to the chair, digging in and pulling out his laptop.

“Were you planning on doing this or did you just happen to bring your laptop on the day you get the idea to watch movies to try and jumpstart my brain as if it's an emotional car?” Jeremy asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah this is coincidental.” He gave Jeremy a look. “Emotional car?”

Jeremy shrugged. “The metaphor still stands.”

Michael smiled scrolling through the pages of movies. “Oh! How about Trolls? That one's about learning how to be happy.”

“Are you serious?”

“If Jenna could sit through it nine times in a day you can sit through it once.”

The closest thing to horror without being beyond Jeremy's emotional range that Michael had seen crossed his face. “Why would she do that?”

“I dunno. It's a cute movie.” Michael tapped his foot on the spot next to his chair. “Get over here so we can watch this shitty movie about being happy.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes, complying with Michael's wishes nonetheless. “I hope you know that I am not amused by this.”

“Oh, boo. You’re not amused by anything.” He nudged Jeremy gently as the movie buffered. “Just try to enjoy the movie.”

Michael wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but as soon as the opening started playing, Jeremy was picking apart everything.

“How come the chef troll didn’t notice that Poppy was a wooden sculpture when she was handing it to the prince?” He asked. “Wouldn’t she be able to feel the texture? Or at least know it’s not squishy like a living being?”

Michael shrugged, squinting at the screen. “She’s a bergen, Jeremy, get your shit right. Maybe she burned away her nerves in her hand with cooking.”

“You really don’t know how cooking works, do you?”

“Not really.”

Jeremy frowned. “That kid’s also going to have splinters in his mouth forever and a half.”

Michael covered his mouth to muffle the snickers. “Oh my god.”

Jeremy’s constant nitpicking was actually a little bit funny, albeit a bit too much at times. The movie wasn’t as bad as Michael thought it would be. Nothing like a cinematic masterpiece, but not intolerably bad. Jeremy, however, did not seem to share his thoughts.

The oven timer rang from the kitchen as the scullery maid bergen started singing the cover of Hello by Lionel Richie. Jeremy stood up, gliding soundlessly back into the kitchen. He returned two minutes later carrying a paper plate filled with brownies. He dropped them in front of Michael. “Here you go.”

“Shit dude, you didn’t tell me that you were making _brownies_ ,” Michael immediately shoved one into his mouth. “Oh my god, these are amazing.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Aw, do you actually care about widdle ol’ me?”

Jeremy grimaced. “Don’t speak like that either, it's bad enough that shit is pasted over half the internet. Also, I don’t care about your safety particularly, but I’d prefer not to go through the possible legal repercussions about you dying while in my presence.”

Michael swallowed the mouthful of brownies that had suddenly become incredibly difficult to swallow. “Oh. That’s… thoughtful.” He turned back to the movie, picking at the sleeve of his hoodie. It really shouldn’t be affecting him that much. That was a fairly typical answer from someone like Jeremy.

After he unpaused the movie again, Jeremy didn’t make as many quips about the plot or characters, oddly enough. The well seemed to have run dry up until the scene in the diner.

“Aw, they’re cute,” Michael cooed. “They’re like flirty middle schoolers.”

“I don’t see it,” Jeremy said.

Michael tossed a few of the stray crumbs on his plate at Jeremy. “You truly are soulless.”

Whatever button Michael had just pushed, it was definitely the wrong one. Jeremy's hand froze mid-air, eyes glazing over with what almost looked like some kind of film. He was staring right through Michael. For a few terrifying moments, Michael was worried Jeremy was back into that mildly hypothermic state from before until common sense smacked him backside the head.

“Jeremy?” Michael said slowly. “You doing okay there?”

When Jeremy didn't reply, he started reaching out hesitantly towards Jeremy's shoulder. Michael yelped as Jeremy's hand shot out and locked around his wrist like a vice. “Jesus Christ!”

It took Jeremy a long time to extricate his fingers from Michael's arm, joints moving in short, jerky motions as if they were made of metal and needed oil. “I'm alive.”

“Yea, you certainly fucking are.” Michael rubbed at the marks already forming on his wrist. “What even was that?”

“Remembering. I was remembering.” Jeremy looked around as if he was in a foreign and exotic place. He got up from his chair, humming some strange melody that Michael wasn't sure he'd heard before.

Michael scrambled after him as Jeremy drifted out of the room, only to immediately collapse onto the couch. He huddled up into the corner of couch, eyes closed and still humming.

“Jeremy, are you okay?”

“I just want to sleep.”

“Yea, but this is a really weird time to do it and people normally don't….” Michael trailed off. He could see the dark circles under Jeremy's eyes. Who knew how long it had been since he'd gotten any sleep? The guy wasn't exactly the best at self care. “Forget I said anything. Have a good sleep.”

Jeremy mumbled something unintelligible. Probably about Michael's grammar. He slowly crossed back to the table where his laptop sat, movie still playing at low volume. He paused it and bit down hard on his lip. If only things could be as simple as they were in children’s movies, with set goals and clear ways to achieve them. 

He closed the laptop, pulling his battered headphones out of his bag and turning on the playlist he’d had going before he arrived at Jeremy’s. It was going to be okay. All it took was some trial and error. This wasn’t going to end in disaster. Michael wouldn’t let it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay that shits done. I'm gonna try and shoot for at least 2000 words a chapter from now on but might fail. Also yayyy, the plots picking up.
> 
> Catch me on Tumblr as squip-grandma


	4. He says you should admit it, he knows I probably won't

_”It's a simple deal, Jeremy.” Graceful fingers danced at the back of his neck, brushing against Jeremy's skin as they played with the curls at the nape of his neck. Jeremy shuddered, holding back a whine. Jesus, it had been at least a year since another human being had touched him other than to shove him into something. His nerves felt like they were on fire. “Just say the word and all the pain goes away.”_

_“I don't know…” Jeremy choked out._

_The fingers tightened around Jeremy's hair and pulled, just enough to be painful. Jeremy couldn't keep in the pathetic whimper that spilled out of his mouth. The worst thing was that he was still instinctively leaning into the touch._

_“Look at yourself. You're desperate and hurting. Not a good combination.”_

_“I wouldn't be here in the first place if I weren't desperate,” Jeremy whispered. The fluttering movements behind his neck stopped. A chuckle floated through the air, seeping into Jeremy's ears like honey._

_“I suppose so.” The movements resumed, causing Jeremy's knees to go weak. He hated how being so touch starved made him react to this. He gasped in surprise as lips pressed against the shell of his ear for an instant before backing away just enough so that they weren't touching. Shivers raced up and down his spine. “All you have to do is give me the go ahead and it's all gone. The feeling of being unlovable, that pain in your chest. Well, the go ahead and that other thing we talked about.” Arms snaked around Jeremy's waist from behind._

_He let out a shaky breath. “But everything else…?”_

_“It'll stay. I'm not a monster.”_

_Jeremy closed his eyes, trying to get the swirling, out of control emotions in his head straight. He was tired of the pain. At this point he just wanted it to stop. “Okay. Okay, I'll do it.”_

_“Good boy.” The arms pulled him closer, and this time Jeremy didn't stop himself from melting into the touch. He could at least enjoy the one time a human wouldn't be too disgusted to touch him._

* * *

Jeremy blinked, the memory clearing away like smoke in the wind. He looked down at the pan of scrambled eggs that had burnt while he was presumably staring into space. Wordlessly, he scraped the now inedible food into the trash and set the pan in the sink before going back into the living room and sitting down on the couch. He didn't need eggs in the evening anyways.

One of the worst parts about having Michael around was that he seemed to be a magnet for Jeremy's memories. It wasn’t that he _couldn’t_ remember anything that happened before The Incident, it was just that he couldn’t recall anything other than blurred pictures. Now hazy visions that he hadn't quite had a grasp on in years floated in and out of his head, triggered by simple phrases and actions of Michael. Which was bullshit. What was so special about this guy? What made him different from everyone else?

He actually was taking the time for Jeremy, for starters.

But Jeremy didn't _care_ about that shit. Sure, it was nice to talk to someone that wasn't holding up the conversation purely out of pity, but Jeremy didn't give a flying fuck about that when it really came down to it. It was a minor amenity, nothing more or less. Nothing actually necessary.

Ever since watching that stupid movie with Michael his head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. Dry, scratchy, and just enough weight to be too heavy. He didn't exactly have the ability to hate it, but he really fucking wanted it to go away so he didn't have to sit down occasionally as some memory forced him too from being so lightheaded. Jeremy was weak, and he wasn't the kind of person to normally be weak. 

Either way, now it seemed that memories were beginning to appear with or without Michael being around. Particularly bad ones that left uncomfortable phantom touches lingering on his body, too heavy to be easily ignored.

Jeremy pulled his legs up onto the couch and hugged them to his chest. He needed something to distract him, or he was going to be over analyzing that one memory all night, and Jeremy wasn't in the mood to deal with that shit. The problem was he was far too tired to go out and find someone for a one night stand or some shit. He felt like lead weights were attached to his limbs. Physical touch might not be the best idea either after…

A spark shot up his spine, just enough to force Jeremy to straighten his back into rigidity. He closed his eyes, waiting for the tension in his muscles to relax until he was slouching back to a comfortable position. 

“Jesus Christ,” He mumbled grabbing his phone from his pocket. Jeremy stared at the screen for a few moments, at his reflection in the dark screen. He really was a mess, all untamed hair and dark circles under his eyes. He wondered what the old Jeremy would say if he could see him now.

The reflection disappeared as he turned the phone on and opened up the messaging app. Before he had much time to think about what he was doing, Jeremy shot off a text and then threw his phone across the room, covering his ears as if it would stop the whispers whirling around him.

He didn't move until forty five minutes later when he heard the door opening and slamming shut through his hands. Honestly, it didn't even feel like he had been breathing either.

“Jeremy, I'm-” Michael cut himself off when he saw Jeremy curled up on the couch. “Geez, you look like shit.”

Jeremy scoffed. “I feel like shit.”

“Well, did you eat anything today?”

“No. I was going to have some eggs for dinner but then I burned them.”

“Yep,” Michael sighed. “That would probably do it. You can't just do that, dude, humans need food.”

Michael's movements were all slow and steady, like he thought if he moved too quickly he'd set Jeremy off. He did have to admit, the circumstances were probably strange for Michael. Jeremy was never the one to text first, and certainly not asking for Michael to come over. But Michael seemed to be overreacting just a bit.

“How'd you burn the eggs?” Michael asked. “You kind of have a system for that shit.”

Jeremy went silent and he calculated the right answer. “I spaced out.”

“Really?” Michael grinned and poked him. “Something was intriguing to grab your laser focus?” The grin slipped off his face as Jeremy went silent again. 

Was it a good idea to explain the memories to Michael? It was highly unlikely he'd be able to understand it, so was there even a point? He _had_ been friends with Michael for just over a month now so…

Jeremy blinked. Friend. Michael was his friend. Probably the only one he had, which by default made him the best one he had. Jeremy frowned. He should be feeling something about the. Some part of him even _wanted_ that but everything stayed the same. 

The couch next to him dipped, drawing Jeremy's attention to the fact that Michael had sat down next to him. He held out an arm hesitantly. “Do you mind if I…”

“Why?” 

“You look like you need it.”

Oh. “I guess.”

Michael wrapped his arms around Jeremy. Wow. It actually wasn't all that bad. Jeremy usually strayed away from intimate contact, but this was… It was at least chasing away the imaginary fingers dragging across Jeremy's skin. Michael's arms were far more solid and real than the ones that were secured around his waist. The longer Jeremy sat there in Michael's embrace, the spectral touches became more and more intangible until they were no longer there.

“Are you really okay? I know I ask you that a lot, but this is really unlike you.” Michael shifted around so that Jeremy wasn't settled quite so strangely.

“I don't know,” Jeremy mumbled. “I just need a distraction.” 

Michael shifted around again, this time rather uncomfortably. “I’m not going to-”

“I know that, Michael. I’m not talking about sex. I just need to keep my mind off something in some fucking way, and since you’re my friend I thought you’d be the best person to call.”

“Oh. Jeremy, that’s…”

Jeremy blinked. “That’s what?”

“I didn’t really expect you to do that. Call me your friend.”

He sighed. “It's just a term, calm down. Can you just start talking about whatever? It makes this easier.”

Michael’s chest shook as he laughed. “I hope you’re ready for my ten page essay on why Shrek The Musical is the paradigm of theatre and music.”

It didn’t take Michael all that long to get into his spiel. Jeremy didn’t pay too much attention, only getting bits and pieces about the vocal techniques or instrumental choices. It was rather relaxing to just have something droning on in the background, just enough to draw in Jeremy’s attention from everything else. The steady weight of Michael’s arms around him kept the incorporeal fingers away. 

“Dude, are you even listening to me?”

For some reason Michael’s voice sounded far away. “Huh?”

“I said-”

_”-Are you even listening to me?”_

_Jeremy’s heart was racing in his chest. The latch of the locker behind him dug into his back painfully as he pressed back hard against it. He flinched away from the teenager leaning over him, and ugly scowl painted across their face._

_“Y-Yes, I am.” Jeremy hated how hoarse and broken his voice sounded. A short whimper slipped past his lips as a fist slimmed into the metal beside his head._

_“Speak up, loser.”_

_Jeremy’s hands were shaking at his sides, gripping at the meshed metal behind him. “I’m listening, I-” His voice cracked. Jeremy blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears forming._

_“Aw, is the widdle baby gonna_ cry _?” They emphasized the word “cry” by kicking Jeremy’s ankle into the locker. Jeremy let out a squeak, trying to shrink back even further. It didn’t work. “I saw you in the hallway lookin’ at that girl. Someone got a little crush?”_

_“No, please just let me go, I just want to go to class.” Jeremy squirmed around, eyes darting around in an attempt to find a way out of this._

_“Not gonna be that easy dude. Gotta bone to pick with you after what you pulled in lunch yesterday.”_

_“I-I didn’t mean to do that, I’m just clumsy, and I tripped and I-”_

_“Oh, shut up.”_

_The walls were closing in around Jeremy as the teenager leaned closer and closer, a look of absolute malice on their face. This was it. This was where Jeremy_ died _, only to be discovered by some kids getting ready for gym. All the oxygen had been sucked out of his lungs, leached away into the concrete and metal around him._

_He would say it was fun while it lasted, but Jeremy honestly did not much care for most of his life._

_The next events happened far too quickly for Jeremy to properly register. The bully that had been leaning over him disappeared as something heavy slammed against some lockers on the other side of the room. He blinked as someone sneakers squeaked across the polished concrete door, followed by the sound of the locker room door opening and closing. Jeremy blinked._

_What the fuck had just happened._

_“You okay dude?” A shorter guy stood in front of Jeremy, wearing a rather large jacket. Judging by what Jeremy assumed just happened, he was apparently hiding a lot of muscle under it._

_“I, um. I think?” Jeremy patted himself down. Nothing was broken or bleeding, which was probably a good sign. “Yea. I am.”_

_“Good. I was coming in to get some of the shit I left in my locker and then I saw…._ that _happening and I couldn’t really just leave you hanging there.”_

_Jeremy let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I know who you are.”_

_The guy’s face morphed into a sour expression. “Yea, I get that a lot. My name’s Richard. And you’re Jere-”_

“-my? Jeremy, are you okay?”

“What?” Jeremy blinked rapidly. He wasn’t in the locker room anymore, he was sitting on his couch with Michael leaning over him, a concerned look in his eyes.

“You just keeled over while I was talking, and I know I’m boring, but I’m not _that_ boring.”

“There was a guy. Richard… Rich....” This guy was _important_ , Jeremy just knew it. His last name was on the tip of Jeremy’s tongue, but he just couldn’t find it. Even as the seconds passed, his first name was getting further and further away until Jeremy couldn’t even remember that.

“Jeremy, who’s Rich?”

“Who’s that?”

“That’s what I was asking you I…” Michael stopped. “Dude, I think that you…”

Jeremy frowned. “I what? What did I do?” He wrenched away from Michael’s arms. It had stopped being grounding and started becoming all too much.

“Your face.”

He bit down on his lip. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

Michael got up, pacing back and forth. “Okay. I can work with this. This is progress. This is good.”

“Michael, what are you talking about?”

“I gotta go. I’ll text you soon, don’t worry.”

He was gone before Jeremy could ask anymore questions. Jeremy stared at the door. The oversized hoodie he was wearing suddenly felt like it was full of weights. He slowly touched a hand to his chest. There was a dull, throbbing pain he didn’t quite realize was there before, and wisps of an already disappearing memory in the back of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO I GET I'M KIND OF TAKING THIS IN A QUESTIONABLE DIRECTION BUT I REALLY NEEDED TO SET UP SOME PLOT DON'T WORRY THIS WON'T HAPPEN VERY MUCH IN THE FUTURE. Anyways, more hints at Jeremy's backstory! This chapter was honestly entirely setting shit up. I'm really sorry, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways
> 
> catch me on tumblr as squip-grandma


	5. it's funny you should ask

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Michael closed his front door behind him, combing his fingers through his hair. Fuck. He was not equipped to deal with this onslaught of emotions right now. Jeremiah _fucking_ Heere, the freezingly cold, void of emotion mess, had shown a facial expression other than almost terrifyingly blank.

Honestly, Jeremy might not have been aware of it. The change had been subtle, but to Michael, who had been looking at the same blank slate for almost a month now, the expression of mild fear and what he could only call desperation was clear as day. Jeremy might not have perceived any feelings himself, but this proved that somewhere, deep down inside of Jeremy, there was _something_ for Michael to salvage.

And his _eyes_. They weren't dull and foggy, they were so _clear_ , restored back to bright and beautiful green-

Michael choked a bit. Slow down there, tiger. That language was a little too affectionate. Did he really just call Jeremy's eyes beautiful? That was cliche as all get out. Even if they were.

Okay, Jesus, Michael was allowed to acknowledge someone being pretty without having any romantic attraction.

With shaking fingers, he tapped Jenna's contact in his phone and waited with baited breath as the dial tone sounded.

She answered after just a couple times. “Michael? This is kind of late for me, what are you doing?”

“Something just happened with Jeremy and I'm not sure where to go from here.” Michael sounded breathless, even to himself.

Jenna didn't respond for a while. Michael almost thought she had hung up. “A romantic something, a sexual something, or a relating to his whole situation something.”

“Relating to the situation.”

She sighed in what sounded like relief. “Okay, but why are you calling me about this? I’ve never met the guy.”

“Because I need your gay wisdom!”

“Michael, you’re gay, wouldn’t you have gay wisdom too?”

“My gay wisdom only works when I’m giving advice to other people.”

“That’s fair.” Jenna paused. “So what exactly happened?”

“Jenna, he like, _actually_ changed his facial expression.”

“So?”

“So! If you had been around him as much as I have been lately you’d know that doesn’t happen! This has to mean something!”

“Mhm.” Uh oh. That tone of voice was never good with Jenna. “How about his voice?”

“Oh. Well, less expressive but-”

“Did he actually _do_ anything that someone with a normal emotional range would have done according to what was happening?”

“Also no. Jenna I-”

“Listen, Michael, I’m really glad for you. I just want you to be careful about this and not get your hopes up too high. You’ve been through a lot of shit, and this is starting to look an awful lot like a repeat of that.”

Michael flinched. “It’s not.”

“ _Michael_... Look, I’m not saying not to help him, or that he’s not getting better, I’m saying to take things into consideration.”

The logical side of him knew Jenna was right, but the other side was a little bit upset she was being so negative about this. Or rather, not trusting Michael to take care of himself. However, he knew she only meant the best for him, so he kept his trap shut. “I get it.”

“Okay. What’re you guys doing right now?”

“I kinda left and I’m at home so-”

“ _What_?!” Michael fumbled to keep his phone in his fingers as Jenna screeched into the line. “Jesus, Michael, I love you, but if you’re right, you’re leaving a guy who hasn’t had emotions in years all by himself! You know, the things that people who regularly have them sometimes can’t handle?”

Oh. _Oh_. “Shit!” Michael was a fucking idiot. “I didn’t think of that!”

“Why’d you even leave in the first place?”

“I was…” Michael blinked. Why had he left? Was he scared? Excited? None of that seemed right. Maybe he was trying to escape Jeremy? That didn’t seem right either.

“Hello? Earth to Michael Mell? You’ve got a problem on your hands.”

He jolted as Jenna’s voice brought him back to reality. “Right! Um, I guess I’ll head back over.”

“And Michael?”

“Yea?”

For a while there wasn’t anything except faint static. “Be careful.”

Michael nodded, and then realized Jenna couldn’t see that. “I got it. Game night tomorrow?”

“Of course. Now go.”

He hung up the phone and shoved it into his hoodie pocket, beginning the trek back to Jeremy’s place

* * *

The door was unlocked when Michael got there. When he stepped inside, he found that Jeremy had hardly changed position, the only difference being his arm lifted up to touch a spot above his heart.

“Are you okay?” Michael blurted out. He’d known a few people who’d dealt with panic attacks with disassociation and he was currently praying to any god out there that Jeremy wasn’t doing that.

Jeremy blinked at him slowly as if coming out of a dream or trance, head slightly tilted to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I just thought that…. Maybe…” The spark of hope in Michael’s chest from earlier died away as he trailed off. He’d been wrong. He was so desperate to get somewhere he’d just made the whole thing up. Tears started welling up in his eyes and Michael quickly went to scrub them away. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Michael.”

“Yes, there is. I’m just standing here _crying_ and-”

“Tears contain a natural painkiller,” Jeremy mused. “It’s your body’s natural way of responding to stress.”

Jesus, Jeremy sounded like a robot. It wasn’t really helping with the emotions threatening to spill over in Michael’s chest. “That’s not really what I m-meant.”

“Oh.” Jeremy paused. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Yea. I know.”

No one seemed to know what to say, especially Michael. He blinked rapidly until the water in his eyes wasn’t threatening to overflow. Jenna was right. Michael was just getting him back into one of those relationships where he couldn’t let go until they broke his heart and either left him or Jenna bailed him out. This was just like them, just like _all_ of them. God, Michael was such a gullible piece of-

“Michael.”

“Huh?” He blinked, looking up from his shoes.

“You’re crying.”

Michael instinctively reached up to touch his face. Fuck. He was. Turns out the blinking thing hadn’t worked as well as he thought they had.

“Didn’t you just explain it? Seems like you get that much.”

“But you’re crying.”

“Yea, I am. Can you just…” He sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. I shouldn’t have come back.”

“But you did.” Jeremy said tonelessly.

“I’m aware, Jeremy! If I had a time machine I’d go back and tell me not to come here, but I don’t have that shit!”

A long pause. “I’m glad you came back.” It sounded more like a question than an actual statement. Jeremy probably didn’t actually care but…

It was kind of nice that he was obviously trying to comfort Michael.

Michael sat down on the floor, Jeremy following him. Green eyes bore into Michael’s skin, intense enough to make his skin crawl a bit. “This is just. Really hard. I’m trying hard for you, I really am but… Sometimes I don’t think I’m going to get anywhere.”

“I know I’m a handful,” Jeremy mumbled. “And that I’m broken in a very fucked up way that isn’t all that natural. It’s not your fault if you don’t know how to put a pile of damaged car parts back together.”

Michael laughed weakly. “Did you just compare yourself to a totaled car?”

“Yes. The metaphor holds up.” That was about the response Michael was expecting. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“I didn’t bring my laptop and I’m just… kind of not in the mood for a movie.”

“We can listen to music and use mine.”

Michael frowned at Jeremy. “You… don’t really have to do that.”

He shrugged. “Better than you getting tears all over my carpet. Besides, I want to. I’m not using it.”

Jeremy got up, disappearing momentarily and then walking back in with a slightly battered laptop. He set it in front of Michael like a peace offering, blinking owlishly. Michael opened it up and was greeted with the default screensaver. 

“Hah. No password?”

“No. I don’t leave it unattended.”

Michael smiled tiredly. “You really should put one on anyways.”

“Guess so.”

It only took a minute or so to open up YouTube and pull out some anti-folk or other song. Michael didn’t usually go for stuff like this, but it fit his mood. Jeremy seemed to approve, humming softly. Possibly not aware of this.

The sun had gone down a some time ago, and the only source of light was the mechanical light admitted by the laptop, but neither of them got up to turn a light on. Jeremy made sure to stay a good distance away from Michael, almost enough to recede into the darkness. Michael had a feeling it was going to be one of the nights where he didn’t get up from the floor and woke up with a crick in his neck.

As time passed, the night time negative thoughts started to creep into Michael’s brain. Did he regret taking up Jeremy? He said it himself, he was broken. Michael wasn’t a mechanic, he couldn’t fix totaled cars. But Jeremy wasn’t a car. He wasn’t a machine, no matter how much it seemed like it at some points. He was a living, breathing _human_ being, complete with working organs that kept him alive and some possibly horrible event in his past. There wasn’t a auto repair manual for this shit but that was okay.

Michael looked up. During his reverie, Jeremy had fallen asleep on the floor, curled up and cuddling one of the pillows from the couch. Michael shifted his gaze back to the laptop screen. This wasn’t going to be a repeat. Michael wasn’t going to let himself get hurt and this time he was going to _help_ someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little iffy on this chapter? It was a little rushed, and I _think_ I'm happy with it, but it might get some major revisions before I post the next chapter. Tell me what you guys think if you want!
> 
> catch me on tumblr as squip-grandma


	6. me and my best friend, me and my cousins, sitting there smiling

Waking up had been refreshing for Michael’s mind, but not much so for Michael’s body.

He groaned, rolling over. As it turned out, Jeremy’s floor had not been a great place for sleeping. In fact, Michael would go as far to say it was a _terrible_ place for sleeping. The muscles in his back were tense, his spine had probably been shifted five miles out of alignment, and the left side of his face undoubtedly had a red mark from being pressed up against the ground all night.

The laptop had disappeared and when Michael looked around he realized so had Jeremy. He sat up, hissing as his back protested rather strongly against this actions. Something was stuck to his right cheek.

It took Michael a few more tries than he'd like to admit of pawing at the post-it note to get it off. The slip of orange creamsicle colored paper seemed infinitely small in his hands, the precise and crisp scrawl blurred by the remnants of sleep in Michael's eyes.

_Off to work. Muffins on the counter if you'd like. Don't destroy anything. I'm trusting you. -Jeremy_

Huh. That was an odd thought. Jeremy trusting someone. Michael wasn't entirely sure what his threshold for trust was, but it felt a bit strange to have Jeremy of all people to use a phrase that normally came with a lot of emotional attachments. Honestly though, the real miracle was how Jeremy stuck the post-it note to Michael's face without waking him up.

He rose to his feet, reaching out and steadying himself with a hand on the nearby couch. Michael took this moment of vulnerability to spite Past Michael for putting him in this position.

Once his back was back to its proper form, Michael made his way to the kitchen. The smell of something burnt ho vered in the air, signs of a glitch in Jeremy's meticulously planned system. Whatever it had been, it wasn't the muffins as they sat unharmed on the counter. Possibly another pan of eggs.

It felt awkward to be alone in Jeremy's house. It was eerily silent, walls dull and blank as they almost threatened to grow out away from Michael and leave him in a barren white wasteland. He had no clue how Jeremy lived like this. Either way, Michael wasted no time grabbing a muffin and the small bag of stuff he had and getting the fuck out of there. If he was ever alone in that house ever again it would be too soon.

* * *

“Where have you been all day?” Jenna called as Michael closed the door behind him. “You haven't been answering any of my calls and your texts are hella short.”

The barest hint of a smile crossed Michael's face. “Hella?”

“I like Life Is Strange. Sue me.” She looked him up and down. “Y'know I think this Jeremy guy is rubbing off on you.”

Michael immediately felt his defences go up. “Jenna…”

“All I'm saying is that maybe you've been spending a little bit too much time with him and might be adopting some of his unhealthy coping mechanisms.”

“Jen, they're not _coping mechanisms_ , he-”

She held up a hand. “Okay, let's not get into a fight when you haven't even been in here for two minutes. We have board games to play.”

This seemed like a little bit of a cop out, but Michael honestly did want to fight. He loved Jenna, and he wasn't quite willing to admit how if she wanted to she could tear him apart bit by bit. Jenna was a dangerous woman when she wanted to be.

Speaking of Jenna being a dangerous woman, Michael had forgotten how ruthless she was at board games. She absolutely crushed him in Candyland, which hadn't actually hurt too bad since that game was more of luck, but getting his ass handed to him in Trivial Pursuit was a bit more of a hit to his pride. Michael didn't know where Jenna even learned most of the facts she'd answered.

“So there's this girl,” Jenna said in a clipped voice as she organized the Monopoly cards. The other two games hadn't lasted very long, so it seemed like a good idea to destroy their friendship with a soul-crushingly long game of Monopoly.

“A girl, you say.” Michael wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. This earned him a pillow chucked right at his face. “Come on, don't be rude. You've been helping me with my boy problems, I can help you with your girl problems.”

“We have very different kinds of problems, Michael.”

“Still.”

Jenna huffed and smiled. “It's nothing too big. She just stops by my lunch haunt a lot and we've been talking but everytime I think to ask for a number the conversations over.”

“The great Jenna Rolan? Forgetting her smartphone’s existence? Hark, how the world has crumbled!”

“You asshole, you know it's not actually that bad.”

Michael smirked. “Still fun to tease you. Honestly though, write it down on your hand. Simple fix.”

“But Michael that's _weird_.”

“I didn't say write ‘give number to really cute girl’ on your wrist. Just do it, it'll be fine.”

Jenna pondered this for a moment. Her fingers drummed against the game board. “Alright. But only because I can't think of a better way.”

“That's how most of my ideas get accepted,” He grinned. “Anyways, you better let me meet this girl so I can give her the good old shovel talk.”

She laughed, throwing the dog piece at Michael. “You’re not my father, young man.”

“And you’re not my mother, young woman.”

“Shut up and take the dog so I can crush you at Monopoly.”

Michael rolled his eyes and placed the dog on the starting square.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so! I know this chapter is really short _and_ really late, not to mention there's like no plot in it, but you're about to be hit with a fuck ton of plot so I wanted to write something a little cuter before I smash you guys with that shit. I'll post it early to make up for the whole "posting this chapter a day late"
> 
> catch me on tumblr as squip-grandma, and feel free to ask me questions about this or any of my other aus!


	7. tell them i didn't want to die

After that night of contemplation and listening to music at Jeremy’s, Michael had decided to step up his game a bit. As it turned out, however, Michael was not the best at comprising plans. Staring at a blank Google Doc didn’t really help his creativity.

He’d eventually decided on playing to Jeremy’s being partial to schedules. After clearing it through with him, they’d decided on getting together at least twice a week, either for a movie or some other activity, such as one of the puzzles Michael would bring. Michael wasn’t very good a aforementioned puzzles, but it was pretty interesting to watch Jeremy’s brain working through it.

It was kind of… weird to think that they’d been friends for over a month. Or maybe acquaintances, since it’d only been a couple weeks ago since Jeremy actually called Michael his friend. Well, they’d known each other for a while and that was the point. 

Michael hummed a song as he threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave. Today hadn’t been a half bad day, and Jeremy riffing on movies was a little more entertaining than Michael gave him credit for. Even if it was a disruptive at times.

He’d offered an invitation to Jenna, but she’d had a date of her own. It had taken Michael a good three minutes to stop screaming when she’d told him about how she’d actually gotten that girl’s number and asked her out. He still wanted to introduce Jeremy to Jenna sometime, but it seemed tonight would not be the night.

It might be a little bit draining to hang out with Jeremy, but Michael genuinely enjoyed it. Right? Right.

Michael blinked as the microwave let out a shrill beep. He opened it up and grabbed the bag, making his way to the couch and collapsing on it. On the screen, _Moana_ was paused on the opening sequence. All that he needed to start now was Jeremy. Michael sat on the couch to begin his wait.

* * *

Michael waited. And waited. And waited. All of the popcorn had been eaten due to nervousness, television turned off after hours of nothing.

He glanced at his phone. One o’clock a.m., no texts. Where was Jeremy? Michael’s latent anxiety was starting to get to him. What if Jeremy had gotten cornered in some alley? Or gotten himself actually run over by a car and this time Michael wasn’t there to pull him off the road in time? But there wasn’t much else he could do. He didn’t have contact with someone who might know where Jeremy is.

Another hour passed. Michael was just about at his wit’s end when he heard the front door open and shut. He jumped up from his seat. Oh god, please, _please_ let it be Jeremy.

Sure enough, a lanky and pale ghost of a human drifted into the room, wearing a thin cotton jacket that was soaked through with rain. He looked like a mess, with messy hair and dark circles under his eyes. Well, messier and darker than usual. Jeremy flipped down his hood, staring dully at Michael.

He immediately rushed over, stripping off the jacket. “You're going to get sick in that thing.” Jeremy merely hummed in response. “Where were you?! I stayed up all night worrying about you because you didn't show up for movie night, I-” Michael stopped as he noticed the fresh daisy chain of marks trailing down Jeremy's neck. “You didn't.”

“What do you mean I didn't-”

“You didn't blow me off for some girl, or guy, or someone in between without telling me! I know it's your life and all, but Jesus, Jeremy, I thought you might be dead! All I needed was one fucking text so I could have gotten some sleep instead of wondering if you were bleeding out in some alley!”

Michael's blood was simmering just under his skin. The worst part, the _worst fucking part_ , was how Jeremy didn't even seem to be affected by this. He looked up at Michael with some cheap imitation of pity, a mockery of the very fucking concept. The simmering rose to a boil. Michael was mad at Jeremy, but most of all he was mad at himself for getting so attached to someone he _knew_ could and probably would do something like this with no capability of remorse.

“This must really fucking suck for you!” Michael yelled. All the frustration towards himself came out in his words towards Jeremy. He was basically an emotional punching bag, it's not like he'd _care_ about anything Michael would say. Months of bottling shit up and ignoring feelings was finally coming out. “You can't even feel the satisfaction of dragging me around in the dirt! I'd ask you if you're happy, but we both know the fucking answer.”

“Michael-”

“Don't ‘Michael’ me! You can't even form a bond with someone unless they're your fuck for the night! I hope you're content with being people's pity case or boy toy because that's all you're ever going to be! Someone who people see and can't help but feel bad for!” In all honesty, Jeremy was far more than Michael's pity case. But he just felt so god damn _hurt_ and if he said it out loud it was easier to believe.

An odd expression crossed over Jeremy's face. “Mi-”

“Just stop! Jesus I- sometimes I wish I never met you.”

Jeremy gasped, suddenly clutching at his chest. “Michael. Michael, Michael, Michael, Mich-” He choked on his words and collapsed to his knees.

Oh fuck. Michael dropped down besides him, trying to find out what was happening without touching Jeremy. “Jeremy, what's going on?”

He sobbed. Jeremy _sobbed_. The world around Michael froze as he saw tears welling up in Jeremy's eyes, already beginning to roll down his cheeks. “It hurts, why does it hurt?”

“I don't know, Jer, I…” Michael was freaking out. Jeremy didn't cry, and he didn't babble. What the hell was going on?

“Make it stop, please, I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, I h-” His voice cracked, causing him to whisper his mantra under his breath like a broken record.

“I don't know how to do that.” Michael yelped as Jeremy snatched his wrist, squeezing it almost painfully. He looked up at Michael, eyes shining with tears with an absolutely pitiful look on his face. Jeremy looked…

Scared. Completely and totally scared.

“Why does it feel like this?” Jeremy sobbed. 

“Jeremy, I think you're scared.”

“Yea, I'm scared of this! Why does it feel like someone is stabbing my heart with a welding torch?!”

Well, that was a phrase Michael had never heard before. “I…”

Jeremy clawed desperately at his skin. “This doesn't feel right, this feels bad. Get it off, get it off, get if off, _get it off_ -!”

Michael panicked and pulled Jeremy into his lap, hugging him so his arms were pinned to his sides. “God, you're going to hurt yourself!”

Jeremy was trembling, head lolling to the side to rest on Michael's shoulder. The tears didn't stop, only falling faster and heavier. “Why would anyone want this?” He whispered brokenly. “Why does anyone want to feel like this?”

“I don't know,” Michael mumbled. He was fucking terrified, he had no goddamn clue was what going on.

“I don't remember it feeling like this,” Jeremy whimpered, twitching in Michael's lap. 

“It doesn't, I promise it doesn't.”

Jeremy looked at Michael with a face that clearly said _“I don't believe you.”_ He let out a gut wrenching sob, attempting to double over. It didn't work very well. 

“Listen, Jeremy, I know it's hard but you have to tell me what's going on so I can help you.” Michael struggled to keep his grip on Jeremy, who was trying his damndest to get away.

“It hurts,” Jeremy whined. 

“I know, Jeremy.”

“It's just like _them_.”

“I kn- wait, ‘them’?” Michael frowned. Jeremy let out a strangled gasp akin to a shriek of pain and he snapped out of it. Not important right now. “Okay, um…”

“I don't want to be just your pity case,” He bawled. “I-I’m _always_ someone's pity case. But I c-can't even keep m-my job without Brooke and you…” Oh god. “I thought that-I thought that you were different.”

Michael regretted saying all that shit earlier. “I didn't mean all that crap, I was just angry.”

“Then why'd you say it?”

“I'm sorry, I didn't…” Didn’t know it would cause all this. Didn’t know that now was the time when the dam would break open.

Jeremy squirmed around, still trying to escape Michael's hold. “Let me go, I want to… I want to…”

He wasn't sure if he wanted to hear Jeremy finish that sentence. Michael had no clue what to do. Jeremy was obvious in some kind of intense pain, but he had no idea where it was coming from or how to stop it, not even to mention that now seemed to be the time when Jeremy was experiencing emotions for the first time in God knows when. It wasn't like the pain was being caused by that though, right?

Every nerve was on fire. This was when Jeremy needed Michael most, and he was failing horrendously. The room was spinning, tilting at odd angles and trying to get his grip on Jeremy to slip. 

 

“Please make it stop.” Jeremy's voice was choked with tears and mucus. Michael was still reeling from hearing something more that a flat, unfeeling tons. “I'll do anything, I'll leave, please just make the pain go away.”

“I can't,” Michael breathed. How he wished he fucking could.

Jeremy whined, feet scrabbling for purchase on the floor. At this rate, Michael was going to loose his grip and he had no idea what would happen if he did that. He needed something, _anything_ to get him to calm down.

The best Michael could do was hold onto Jeremy, whispering into his hair to hopefully distract him while he writhed in Michael’s lap. Eventually, Jeremy’s movements slowed to a stop, gut wrenching sobs quieting down to pained whimpers, whines and sniffles. He still twitched a bit, eyes wide and still a little scared. It could have been anywhere between fifteen minutes to two hours. Michael didn’t know.

“Are you okay?” Michael asked.

“Hurts,” Jeremy croaked.

“Less though, right?” A nod. “Okay, let's get you off to bed.”

Jeremy was like a small child, wordlessly letting Michael pick him up and carry him to the bedroom. His eyes slipped shut as Michael set him down on the edge of the bed, swaying slight where he sat.

“You need to get out of those wet clothes. Do you mind if I…?” 

Jeremy shook his head. Michael grabbed his smallest tee-shirt and pair of sweatpants, which were still miles too big for Jeremy, and set to getting him changed. Michael traded the wet clothes for the dry ones, quickly, clinically. 

Jeremy whined as Michael's hand accidentally brushed the marks on his neck. “D-don't-!”

“Don't worry, I'm not doing it again,” Michael said reassuringly. 

Once his clothes were taken care of, Michael set to slowly getting Jeremy to lay down on the bed. He was way too stiff, as if bracing himself for something. Michael pulled up the covers around him, turning around to head off to sleep on the couch. 

Something grabbed onto Michael’s sleeve. He turned around to find Jeremy grasping at his sleeve weakly, the same fear from earlier in his eyes. God, it was weird to see him expressing emotions.

“P-please don't go,” Jeremy croaked. “What if it-what if it comes back?”

“Jeremy, I….” The words died in Michael's throat. Jeremy was looking up at him with a kind of absolute desperation, fingers trembling and limbs even still occasionally twitching. 

Michael sighed sliding into the bed next to him. It was probably a little bit too small for two people, giving the two not much more than an inch of space. Jeremy's small little pained gasps and wheezes eventually faded away to even breathing, but Michael was still awake.

He'd gotten himself into a fucking mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say; jeremy experiencing emotions as actual physical pain at first? No? damn.
> 
> So I said I'd post early and it seems that posting early means posting it on the same day. Honestly I didn't really want to wait for this update anyways. I'll go back to regularly scheduled updates after this.
> 
> Catch me on tumblr as squip-grandma, and feel free to ask me questions about this or any of my other aus!


	8. what am i feeling

Jeremy blinked away the sleep in his eyes. His head felt like it was filled with lead, a dull throbbing settled deep in his chest. He groaned, rolling over in bed and curling into the fetal position. Shudders were already wracking his body.

“Oh fuck,” Michael's groggy voice reached his ears. Jeremy could feel Michael's hands hovering over him, hesitant to touch Jeremy for fear of upsetting him.

Oh. Jeremy could be upset now.

“No, no, no, don't start crying, please don't start crying,” Michael begged. Jeremy hadn't even realized he'd started. That just made the tears flow faster.

He squeezed his eyes shut against them as the events of the previous night returned to him. Being pressed up against a wall at a bar. Stumbling back to Michael's with the feeling of lips still burning against his skin. Breaking down after Michael said he was only people's pity case. Michael saying he wish he never met Jeremy. Stabbing, electric pain shooting through his chest. Michael saying he wished he never met Jeremy. Being carried to the bed and begging for Michael to stay. _Michael saying he wished he never met Jeremy._

He could still… Feel, but it was off. Like Jeremy was holding onto a thin metal bar during rain. Eventually his fingers were going to slip and he would be swept away. Should he even try to hold on if he was more accustomed to the storm?

Gentle fingers brushed his hair to the side. “Look, Jeremy, I know this is hard but after what happened last night we need to talk.”

This was it. Michael was going to leave Jeremy when he was most vulnerable. When he could actually care that Michael was leaving. It wasn't too bad. Michael fussing over his hair kind of felt nice.

“You're…” Michael paused, searching for the right thing to say. “You aren't supposed to experience emotions with real, actual physical pain. Intense physical pain.”

Jeremy cracked open an eye to look up at him. How was Jeremy supposed to know if that was true? “Still hurts,” Jeremy croaked. His throat felt like it was coated in dust and rusty nails.

“Still-” Michael cupped his hands around Jeremy's face to seemingly get a better look at his face. His nerves immediately set on fire at the contact, whatever layer that was just under his skin crawling. A strangled sound slipped past Jeremy's lips and Michael was off of him in an instant, a mixture of what must be horror in his eyes. Was this was physical contact did to Jeremy now? Why the everloving fuck was this happening? 

“Okay, okay, no more of that. Um, what're you feeling right now?” Michael asked.

“My chest hurts.”

“No, not that like…” He trailed off, but Jeremy got the picture.

The heavy weights in his head were distracting. He wasn't sure if that was from his first sobbing session in years or if this was another side-effect from all the emotions running around. After so long of not having to keep track of any, having more than one was taxing.

That sensation of losing his grip came up again. It'd be so easy to just let go and go back to what it was before. Or to just fall asleep...

“Jeremy.” Michael said sharply.

“Don't wanna stay awake,” He whined. 

“I know, buddy, but you have to.” 

Jeremy groaned and sat up. His spine ached, pain still resting in his chest and threatening to swell up at any given moment. He shivered and rubbed at his arms.

“W-was your house this cold last night?”

Michael frowned. “I dunno. Here-” He grabbed a fluffy grey blanket and wrapped it around Jeremy. “-This should help.”

Within a few moments of being bundled up, Jeremy decided this was his new favorite blanket. Not that he'd really had one before. It was everything he would associate with warm, soft and safe in a rather relaxing muted tone. It made him want to just collapse on the bed and stay there.

“Come on buddy.” Michael tugged on the blanket to prompt Jeremy into standing up. He didn't let go, leading Jeremy back out and to the main room. “I need to… Make a call. Just relax, I'll be there in a second.”

Jeremy nodded, dropping into the couch. Michael sent him a weak smile before he left the room, phone in hand. After a minute or so, Jeremy heard Michael's muffled voice drifting in from the other room. He couldn't understand a word of what he was saying. A sour and heavy feeling wrapped itself around Jeremy's stomach, rising up to his throat. What did this one mean? Jesus, how did anyone tell what all these sensations meant?

Michael's voice suddenly became clearer, possibly from pacing closer to where Jeremy was.

“... I just don't know what to do with him, Jen.” Jeremy's breath hitched. “It just feels like anything I do right now will set him off.”

Jeremy gripped so tightly at the blanket his fingers hurt. He pulled it around him, hoping the pressure and warmth might do something to calm him down. It didn't. Jeremy was bad, Jeremy was dragging Michael down, Jeremy was going to hurt Michael. This isn't what he wanted. Blue sparks flitted across the room, swirling in front of Jeremy's vision in time to his increasing heart rate. Pain started rising up again in his chest until he was dizzy from it and the pattern of the sparks. He should tell Michael, that's a fire hazard…

Jeremy saw himself slumping forward before he felt it. He tried to grab the grey blanket before he hit the floor but his arm was too weak. The sparks had stopped flying around, instead settling on Jeremy's skin to form what felt like a layer of static. Maybe he hit his head on something. It would explain the sharp pain that was now throbbing in his temple and that he was seeing sparks that weren't actually there. Probably. Sparks don't normally behave like this, right?

“Oh my god!” Cue Michael finding Jeremy sprawled on the floor. He heard the footsteps in the floor as Michael rushed over. “What happened?”

“Fell.” Jeremy whispered. 

“I can see that. Are you hurt?”

He paused to consider this question. “Feels weird. I'm dizzy.”

“Alright. Alright, let's get some food into you then.”

Jeremy frowned. “I don't want to eat.”

“ _Please_ , Jeremy.” He looked up and Michael's face and instantly regretted it. Absolute desperation was written across his fingers, bags under his eyes from what was probably a lack of sleep. Dammit. 

“Okay.” Jeremy's guts already tightened at the thought of ingesting food right now, but he couldn't just say no when Michael had _that_ face on. This whole giving a shit about other people kind of sucked.

_Then don't._ A painfully familiar voice whispered. The icy claws of fear gripped at Jeremy's heart. _It'd be easy to go back. You know it would be. You wouldn't even have to try._

They were right. Even now he could feel the emotions slipping out from underneath his fingertips. Maybe he should. Maybe…

Jeremy jolted as Michael snapped his fingers in front of Jeremy's face. “Huh?”

“You spaced out for a second there. Just making sure you're okay.”

“Oh, yea I'm-I’m good. I'm just a little woozy from the fall I guess.” Jeremy finally peeled himself off the floor and wrapped the fluffy grey blanket around his shoulders once more. The static on his skin didn't disappear, but it settled down a bit. Jeremy had to wonder if he'd ever be normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is late _and_ really short, but i've been really stressed because of drivers ed. Hopefully the next chapter will be on time!
> 
> anyways, the chapter titles are about to take a theme change and if anyone guesses then you get a prize! and my everlasting respect!
> 
> catch me on tumblr as squip-grandma, feel free to ask me questions about this or any other of my aus!


	9. it's gonna be good, it's gonna be fine

Jeremy spent most most of the day drifting in and out of slumber. He'd have a dream every single time, something horrifying enough that he'd have to choke back a scream, but the memory of it was gone within moments. Michael probably knew more about them because of his frantic post-slumber babbling than Jeremy did.

He had, of course, tried to go to work, but Michael had responded with a “there's no way you're fit to go anywhere right now” and sat him back down on the couch. 

Back to the dreams.

He had a feeling they were different every time. No actually memory or proof, but a little nagging voice at the back of his head that assured him his brain was coming up with a lot of fucked up shit.

Each time he woke up the world felt a little duller. A bit more… Fuzzy. Like it was going in and out of focus for a few moments as Jeremy shook off the remnants of sleep. Not visually, more like he felt it somewhere in his bones. It was odd, but easy to forget with the pain in his heart that wavered in intensity and Michael fussing over him like a mother hen.

“Can you please eat something?” Michael begged. “I don't even know how long it's been since you ingested food at all.”

Jeremy wrinkled his nose and tugged at the fluffy grey blanket he had refused to let go of. “I feel like I'm going to throw it up.”

“Well it's better you eat something and _possibly_ throw it up than not eating anything and definitely not getting anything into your system.” He sighed when Jeremy flopped back over on the couch. “Please?”

“Tired.”

“I know but you've been napping all day and you've yet to eat anything.”

Jeremy pulled the blanket up over his head, making a whining sound in the back of his throat. “I just wanna sleep.”

Another exaggerated sigh. “Okay, if I let you sleep one more time do you promise me to eat when you wake up.”

“Fine.”

Michael seemed to accept this for an answer, as Jeremy could hear his footsteps leaving the room. He rolled over so he was laying on his side, blanket drawn up to just under his chin. Emotions were exhausting and painful. He had no idea how people dealt with them.

Even with the agonizing and dull feeling in his heart, it didn't take long for Jeremy to fall asleep.

_”Really hurts, huh?”_

_Jeremy blinked as Rich finally spoke up next to him. “Huh?”_

_“C’mon dude, you'd have to been blind not to see that agonized look on your face. And the… You know.”_

_He gnawed on his bottom lip. “We're losers, Rich. Any dreams I have are instantly crushed.”_

_Rich snorted. “Dramatic much?”_

_“How come you don't care? I at least get attention from bullies, it's almost like… No one sees you. How can you stand that?” In a way, to Jeremy that was almost worse than the taunting and stares he got from people. Almost._

_Rich tilted his head, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “I know a guy.”_

_“_ You _know a guy?”_

_“There's gonna be one other person who knows I exist besides you dude.” Rich grinned and leaned in close. In turn, Jeremy leaned back so the distance between them stayed equal. “And this guy fucking rocks. I don't even care about being popular anymore. I used to agonize over it. It hurt how people didn't even acknowledge me. Now I couldn't give less of a shit.”_

_“R-really. So, like, drugs or some shit?”_

_Rich cocked an eyebrow. “It's better than drugs, Jeremy. It's like the feelings aren't even there.”_

_A thought flitted across Jeremy's mind. “C-could they make me not care about…?”_

_He leaned away again. He looked sad. Pitying, in a certain sense. “Yea. They could.”_

_“Could you-?”_

_“I dunno, I'll think about it.” Rich sighed, putting on an only half convincing smile that failed to reach his eyes. “You should too, dude. It's a pretty big decision.”_

_“I will.”_

_Jeremy had already made up his mind._

The moment his eyes were opened, Jeremy knew it had finally happened. The throbbing that had filled his heart, his lungs, was gone. He touched a hand to his chest, blinking slowly. All of the panic, fear, sadness, had disappeared. Jeremy couldn't feel…

Anything.

He stood up. No more nausea, dizziness or imaginary sparks. He was regular old emotionless Jeremy. Huh. 

“Hey!” Michael walked into the room grinning. “You must be feeling better if you're standing up! Ready to eat like you promised me?” The smile slowly slipped off his face as Jeremy didn't respond. “Jeremy?”

“Hm?”

Michael's face went pallor and he rushed over. “What happened?”

“I took a nap.”

“But-! You can't have just fallen back, it hasn't even been a day, you-” Michael made a choking sound. “Oh my god, Jeremy…”

He collapsed to his knees, shoulders shaking. Every now and then he'd make a small, distressed sound.

“I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry.”

“But you didn't do anything wrong.” Jeremy frowned.

“But I should have stopped this and now I'm just breaking down,” Michael choked out. An instant later he was back on his feet, one hand wiping at his eyes and the other clenched at his side, his lips set in a determined line. “No.”

“No?”

“I'm not going to accept this. We got you to break through this shit once, we can do it again.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean to accomplish this by putting me through a high stress situation again?”

“What-? Jeremy, no I…” Michael trailed off. “You know I didn't mean to hurt you like that.”

“Hm. I guess so.”

“How are you feeling? Like, physically.”

Jeremy looked down at his hands. “Sore, I guess. Probably from lying around all day.”

Michael nodded determinedly. “Alright, we’re going out then.”

“Going… out?”

“I know that you know what that means, Jeremy. A restaurant, a coffee shop, any place is fine. You just need to get out more than going to work or to my place.” He looked Jeremy up and down. “I think your clothes from last night are dry, so you won’t have to wear my stuff if you don’t want to.”

Jeremy tugged at the fabric of the borrowed sweatpants he wore. “Yes. That would probably be for the best.”

“I’ll go get them for you.”

As Michael left, Jeremy closed his eyes against the strange feeling that was seeming to crawl through the insides of his bones. He wrapped his arms around his waist, drawing in a deep breath. It subsided, instead leaving a hollow sensation as if someone had scraped out the marrow and the lingering question of _why_?

“I got it!” Michael’s voice called. Jeremy’s eyes snapped open. “I know it’s not exactly the most ideal thing, wearing your clothes from the previous day but…”

“It’s fine,” Jeremy said with clipped words. He stood up and took the bundle of clothes out of Michael’s arms, walking past him to get to the bathroom. 

Jeremy closed the door behind him, pressing his back to it and hugging his clothes to his chest. He was a mess, balancing on the line between his current stage and whatever had happened to him last night. His stomach was doing flips in a way that felt familiar in the worst way. Where had he felt this before? 

Instead of dwelling on it, he started stripping down to get changed. If he ignored it, it would go away. When he got to Michael’s shirt he paused. Maybe he could keep it on for a little while more. It was comfortable, and he’d always been fond of oversized clothes. That was the reason.

He pulled on his old sweatpants and jacket, folding up the extra clothes Michael had given him and placed it on the counter. Jeremy opened the door and went back out. Upon seeing him, Michael raised an eyebrow.

“You’re still in my shirt?”

Jeremy shrugged. “Mine was still wet.” Why did he lie? Jeremy never lied, it never mattered to him.

“If you say so. I don’t mind, I’ve got other ones.” Michael held out a hand. “You ready to go?”

He glanced at the hand outstretched towards him. Jeremy pushed past Michael towards the door. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He ignored how Michael had froze where he stood when Jeremy had disregarded the gesture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus fucking christ i wish these chapters were longer but for some reason i'm having enough trouble getting them to my minimum word count before the due date. I'm sorry guys, I swear the next one will be longer (hopefully).
> 
> Either way, moooore past plot! A little iffy on this chapter too but hey, next ones gonna have some fun stuff. probably. Also, the new title theme hasn't been guessed yet (and should be easier now that there's a second one) so go ahead and take a shot if you want.
> 
> Catch me on tumblr as squip-grandma! Feel free to ask me questions about this or any other of my aus!

**Author's Note:**

> I finally posted this! I'm gonna go ahead and dedicate this to my friends Dreamer, Jasper, and reluctantly Des bc they put up with my shit and let me talk about this au.
> 
> Also it's important to me that you know this au was born when I joked about selling my soul for a nectarine.
> 
> Catch me on tumblr as squip-grandma


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